I wish I could say it was only an illusion, that I’m a hypochondriac who always thinks she’s sick…but something about the hacking cough, running nose, sore throat and lack of voice make me thing that this isn’t just in my head. I could be wrong, though.

I had great plans for New Year’s Eve–friends, fondue and fun–and now my dreams are ruined because I have the worst cold I have had in years. It’s probably the flu, but I’m not ready to admit that just yet. My nose is stuffed and running at the same time (the joys of two nostrils), my throat is killing, my ears are ringing, I am hot, then cold, then hot again. I cough constantly. My chest hurts and I have no voice. I hate being sick. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen very often and it makes me appreciate how healthy I am normally, but why, oh why, did I have to wake up sick at the beginning of a three-day-weekend?

Truthfully, I wasn’t feeling good yesterday, but I don’t believe in being sick, so I went to work anyway. Silly me. And if this were during the week, I would consider going to work, except that at this job people actually want you to take sick time when you’re sick. Apparently, they don’t think it’s fun to contract whatever illness you have because you’re a workaholic. Weird! Maybe if I’d stayed home yesterday, I wouldn’t be so sick today. Maybe I’ll believe that I get sick one of these days.

The good news is that I got “The Devil Wears Prada” for Christmas, and even though I watched it last night, I don’t think I could ever get sick of watching those clothes. They are fabulous. The closest I come is my cute Gucci sunglasses (there’s a picture on here somewhere). But I can dream, right?

Well, I think I’ll lay down now, as my head is starting to feel a little light. I hope you all have a fantastic New Year’s Eve and you think of me, hacking my lungs up, blowing my nose, wishing I could play with you. (For not believing I get sick, I do an excellent job of milking the situation, n’est–ce pas?)